


(A Dinner Here Is) Never Second Best

by questionmark007



Series: Meals & Feels [3]
Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, food as a love language, the oc is the Caswell's personal chef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionmark007/pseuds/questionmark007
Summary: Ricky stared at him, baffled. “You want us to have dinner with your parents?”“I do not. I want to have dinner at my house.” EJ said firmly.That was... not a meaningful distinction for Ricky so he shrugged and said, “Okay?”“With Wilson,” EJ added quietly.“Wilson the chef?” Ricky asked.“Wilson the chef,” EJ confirmed.--or, Ricky gets nervous because he's having dinner with his boyfriend's family's personal chef and he doesn't know what to expect.
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell
Series: Meals & Feels [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762534
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	(A Dinner Here Is) Never Second Best

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaack! And special shoutout to an anon who inspired me to finish this, and to [billiejs](https://billiejs.tumblr.com/) for keeping me motivated! 
> 
> This is a sequel to Home's A Lie (the first part in this series) and I'd recommend reading that first because this references it a lot.

Dating EJ Caswell was a lot different than Ricky thought it would be. Not that he thought about it a lot before they started dating but still.

There was a lot of EJ driving him to and from school, or evenings of Netflix and chill that were a lot more chill than Netflix or even just EJ throwing an arm around Ricky’s shoulders as they walked down the halls at school.

And given that they were in high school in a more conservative city in a conservative state, the people at school had been pretty cool about the fact that EJ Caswell, co-captain of the water polo team, senior class treasurer, and lead in various drama club productions, was dating a boy.

People didn’t even seem to mind that the boy he was dating was Ricky Bowen, skater, slacker, and occasional drama dork.

So, Ricky was happy.

Mostly happy.

He and his mom were still working things out. It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her, but she called a few times a week and told him about the therapy she was in and the work she was doing there.

One of these days, Ricky might even work up the courage to talk to her about his abandonment issues and his conflicting fears of change and commitment (which he was working on in his own, unrelated therapy sessions that Mike had insisted on after the ‘Bowen family dinner from Hell’), but as long as she didn’t hate him for being himself, Ricky considered it progress.

His mom even made a point to ask how EJ was every time she called, which went a lot farther in helping her case with Ricky than it did with EJ, who still resented her for being biphobic.

_("and for making you cry!” EJ threw his arms in the air._

_“Yeah, but she also is sorta the reason we got together?” Ricky pointed out. “Without her shitty behavior, we wouldn’t have fake-dated which means we wouldn’t be real dating now.”_

_“Yes, we would.” EJ shook his head. “We’d have gotten there on our own. I’m sure of it.”)_

“Whatcha thinking about?” EJ asked, tapping Ricky on the leg and snapping him back to reality. They were in EJ’s car, driving back from an after-school cast hangout where they had been teased mercilessly by their friends for still being “gross in love”, according to Gina.

“You,” he said simply. EJ rolled his eyes so Ricky continued, reaching over to grab EJ’s hand. “I’m serious! I was thinking about how good things have been since we started dating for real.”

“That’s fair because things were an absolute shit show when we were faking it.” EJ chuckled as they stopped at a red light.

“It was fun though.” Ricky looked at him and EJ smiled softly. It was Ricky’s favorite smile of EJ’s, the one that EJ saved just for him, when it was just the two of them.

“It was.” He admitted. The light turned green and EJ continued the drive to Ricky’s house.

They were quiet for a few moments before EJ started speaking again, squeezing Ricky’s hand. “Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Ricky’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t afraid, exactly, of what EJ was wanted to talk to him about. He knew they were in a good place. But still, Ricky didn’t seem to have good luck when people "wanted to talk”. It generally meant “I have bad news” and they were in a moving car, so Ricky couldn’t exactly make a break for it.

“Okay?” Ricky shifted in his seat.

EJ must have sensed Ricky was panicking because he quickly said, “Oh, no, no, no! It’s nothing bad! I was wondering if you wanted to do dinner at my house on Saturday!”

Ricky stared at him, baffled. “You want us to have dinner with your parents?” They had been dating for a few weeks and while they had spent time at the Caswell house, Ricky had yet to even see a glimpse of one of EJ’s parents. If it weren’t for the dozens of framed photos around the house and the literal family portrait that hung over the mantel, Ricky wouldn’t even know what they looked like. As far as Ricky knew, EJ’s parents didn’t even know they were dating.

“I do not. I want to have dinner at my house.” EJ said firmly.

That was... not a meaningful distinction for Ricky so he shrugged and said, “Okay?”

“With Wilson,” EJ added quietly, his jaw set and shoulders tight.

“Wilson the chef?” Ricky asked. Despite spending a fair amount of time at the Caswell house, Ricky had yet to meet the family chef. He had met Ellie, EJ’s younger sister, several times and even met Ellie’s nanny once or twice, but never the mysterious Wilson. (Part of Ricky thought it might be intentional on EJ’s part, but he couldn’t really come up with a reason why, so he didn’t dwell on it. Much.)

“Wilson the chef,” EJ confirmed, still looking pointedly anywhere but at Ricky.

“Okay, I’m confused. Why?” Ricky asked. Mostly he was wondering why now? And why a dinner? That seemed so formal. (But, also, after the disaster dinner he dragged EJ to, it wasn’t like Ricky was in any place to say no.)

“Well, first because you can’t survive on fast food alone --” EJ began.

“Can too – I’ve done it this long,” Ricky muttered, petulant.

“And second,” EJ continued as if he hadn’t heard Ricky, “because he’s been giving me a hard time about meeting you.”

“He has?” In truth, Ricky knew almost nothing about Wilson except that he was a chef and made amazing breakfast bagels. So, the fact that EJ spends enough time with Wilson to give him hard time about Ricky was news to Ricky.

“He seems to think that if he makes someone’s breakfast every morning, then he has a right to meet them.” EJ shrugged and Ricky could tell he was relaxing a bit from how tense he was earlier in the conversation.

“Well that is a good point…” Ricky allowed, still watching EJ. They pulled to a stop outside of Ricky’s house.

“It is not,” EJ rolled his eyes. "But it’ll get him to stop and he promised to make spaghetti carbonara which is the best and he only makes it for special occasions, so I agreed.”

“Isn’t he your chef? Shouldn’t he make whatever you want him to?” Ricky wasn’t sure how a personal chef worked, given that he and his dad called it a good day if they managed to not burn dinner, but still, he felt like that had to be part of the deal right?

“Technically, yes, but he’s known me since I was five and he takes my diet very seriously.” EJ explained, playing with Ricky’s fingers.

“Your diet,” Ricky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Water polo is over for the season –”

“So, are you on for dinner?” EJ cut him off, suddenly tense again.

“Yeah, of course.” Ricky said softly. He wasn’t used to this EJ. In fact, Ricky’s fairly sure the only other time he had seen EJ nervous was the night they got together. “If you want me there, I’m there.”

EJ nodded jerkily, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, then I’m in.” Ricky told him. He wasn’t sure if he should push further or what, but he didn’t have to think about it for long because EJ reached across the center console of the car and pulled Ricky towards him for a kiss.

They broke apart a while later, breathing heavily and Ricky could barely remember what they had been talking about before. The porch light flashed on and off, his dad’s subtle way of telling him to come inside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Ricky asked, climbing out of the car.

“Yeah, same time as always.” EJ nodded at him. “And I’ll text you when I get home.”

\---

Ricky climbed into EJ’s car the next morning in a good mood. It was Friday. EJ and Ashlyn had some family thing tonight, so he and Big Red were going to stay up way too late playing video games tonight, catching up on some much-needed bro time.

“Morning!” He said cheerfully, giving EJ a quick kiss.

“Morning!” EJ returned, looking amused at Ricky’s good mood. “Here you go.” He handed Ricky a spoon and a Styrofoam cup, filled with a brownish goop.

“What is this?” Ricky asked, carefully sticking the spoon into the cup.

“It’s oatmeal,” EJ replied, patiently as they pulled away from Ricky’s house.

“Why?” Ricky couldn’t stop staring at it. He knew it was oatmeal. He just didn’t know why it wasn’t a breakfast bagel with eggs, bacon, and cheese, which is what EJ usually brought him for breakfast.

“Wilson decided to switch things up today.” EJ shrugged, glancing at Ricky.

“Why?” Ricky asked again. He wanted his breakfast bagel. He missed his breakfast bagel.

“Because he’s concerned about how much junk food you eat.” EJ explained. “And oatmeal is good for you.”

Ricky frowned at the cup, still idly playing with the spoon. It made a _squelch_ when he pulled it out of the oatmeal.

“I’ll tell him you don’t like oatmeal.” EJ added after a moment.

“No! Don’t do that!” Ricky nearly shouted, causing EJ to hit the brakes reflexively. “I’m eating it! See?” Ricky shoved several huge spoonfuls of oatmeal in his mouth. “Hmmm, yum!” The oatmeal was actually a lot better than Ricky expected. His only experience with oatmeal had been the stuff found in packets, and he either always put in too much water or not enough so it was never a good experience. This was quite good though, or it would have been, if Ricky hadn’t nearly inhaled it in an effort to _not_ get on Wilson’s bad side by potentially insulting his food.

“What are you--?” EJ looked at him alarmed. “Slow down! You’re going to choke!”

“Not gunna choke!” Ricky garbled, swallowing the last of the oatmeal. “Can’t choke on soft foods!”

“That is not true!” EJ shook his head. “What is wrong with you?”

“How much time do you have?” Ricky quipped, putting the empty cup in the cupholder.

“Ricky.” EJ said warningly as the car turned into the school parking lot.

“I’m fine.” Ricky waved him off, trying to avoid a “feelings” conversation so early in the morning. “Just tell Wilson the oatmeal was good, and I appreciate it.”

“Tell Wils—is that what that was about?” EJ asked, perplexed. They pulled into a spot but EJ didn’t turn off the car.

“No...” Ricky shifted, undoing his seat belt. He was fiddling with the door handle.

“Why would you care if I told Wilson you didn’t like the oatmeal?” EJ turned his whole body to face Ricky, his voice was soft.

_No way out of this one,_ Ricky sighed mentally.

“Because I’m meeting him tomorrow and I’m nervous,” Ricky admitted.

“Why are you nervous?” EJ asked him, looking confused.

“Well first of all, I’m nervous about everything,” Ricky started. “Nini told me once if I had a Patronus, like from Harry Potter, mine would be a squirrel because they’re constantly terrified and have way too much energy.”

“You’re deflecting again,” EJ pointed out gently. “And that’s a little harsh of Nini.” 

“She’s right though.” Ricky shrugged, before remembering what his original point in all of this was. “And second of all, this is one of those ‘meet the family’ deals, so I want to make a good impression and I tend to suck at first impressions.”

EJ’s face cleared of the confusion as he looked at Ricky. “Of course, you’re going to make a good impression. He already likes you, if that helps at all.”

“How can he like me? We’ve never met!” Ricky frowned.

“Because _I_ like you, dumbass.” EJ rolled his eyes. “And Ellie likes you. And Ellie doesn’t like anyone I’ve dated…”

“Oh, _now_ you tell me!” Ricky threw his hands in the air. “She does actually like me though, right?”

“Yes, idiot, I just said that.” EJ laughed. “We’re both very fond of you, which means Wilson _has_ to like you.”

That did not make Ricky feel better. But the warning bell rang so they had to cut the conversation short and rush to class.

\---

“What’s your plan for today?” EJ asked, appearing out of nowhere as Ricky stood at his locker. The final bell had just rung, and most students were flooding out the doors of the school as quickly as possible. This was normal for a Friday (or any day, really), but Ricky was taking his time packing his stuff up, not having anywhere to be.

“Gonna head home, drop my stuff off, go to Big Red’s, then play video games till we pass out,” Ricky shrugged. He wasn’t entirely sure why EJ was asking, since he already knew how Ricky was planning on spending his Friday night.

“Would you want a ride home and to Big Red’s?” EJ asked, sounding hopeful.

Now Ricky was even more confused. “Why?” He closed his locker and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. “His house is like a block away; I skate there all the time.”

“I know, I just—” EJ’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know. I’m not looking forward to this family dinner and—,” he shrugged. It clicked into place for Ricky.

“You want to hang out, so you don’t dwell on it as much?” Ricky guessed. Avoidance was a tactic Ricky knew well.

“Yeah, I guess?” EJ shrugged, frowning. “I don’t know. Well, I do actually. My parents are going to be there, but then they’re leaving first thing tomorrow for some other trip and I just don’t want to spend any more time with them than I have to.”

Ricky nodded sympathetically and held out his hand. “Of course, you can chauffer me around.”

EJ smiled, relieved, and took Ricky’s hand in his. They walked out of the school and climbed into EJ’s car.

From his own experience, Ricky knew that avoidance works best when the conversation steers clear of the taboo topic. So, it was for that reason, and nothing at all to do with his own curiosity, that Ricky said:

“So, tell me about Wilson.”

“Wilson?” EJ looked confused at Ricky’s encouraging nod. “What about him?”

“Tell me about him.” Ricky repeated. “He wants to meet me, and you’re okay with it, so he’s gotta be important to you, right? So, who is he to you?” Ricky paused as EJ shrugged, seemingly at a loss. It would be just Ricky’s luck to try to avoid one topic by discussing another topic that EJ didn’t want to talk about, so he tried to shift gears: “Or do you not want to talk about it?”

“No, I just—” EJ struggled for the words. “He was always there for me. If I had a bad day, or my team lost, he was there, with comfort food. Strudel or lasagna or something. If I got a good grade on a test, or something like that, we’d celebrate with something super fancy, like steak or homemade donuts or something.”

“That sounds nice.” Ricky said, trying to focus more on what EJ was saying, rather the foods that were just named. (He was hungry, okay?)

“It was! For a long time, it was just me and him, you know?” EJ had a faraway look in his eyes that would have made Ricky nervous if the street they were on had any other cars on it. “He never came to any of my games or anything – that would’ve been weird. But he always asked how they went. He was always interested.”

“So, he’s like your pseudo-dad?” Ricky asked carefully, not wanting to pry too much and risk overstepping.

“No, he’s more like my pseudo-cool uncle,” EJ shrugged. He didn’t seem to mind the question, so Ricky decided it was safe to keep going.

“I thought that was Ashlyn’s dad?”

“No way, Uncle Dennis couldn’t be cool if he tried – and believe me, he’s tried.” EJ smiled at some memory. Then, “But Wilson… when I went to sleep away camp for the first time, he wrote me letters. He taught me how to change a tire… and a lot of other stuff.”  
  


“Are you nervous for us to meet?” Ricky asked. In all honesty, he was now more terrified than ever to meet the chef. It had gone from just meeting someone who is in EJ’s life, to meeting someone EJ clearly thinks the world of and has known him for a long time and… what would Wilson think of Ricky?

“No,” EJ admitted after a moment. “I’m not nervous for you to meet. But I am just nervous about it in general, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah, like for the musical, we’re all nervous opening night even though we know it’ll go well.” Ricky nodded. It wasn’t a perfect analogy, given a lot could go (and had gone) wrong on opening night, but still.

“Yeah, exactly,” EJ smiled at him.

“Do I need to dress up?” Ricky asked, suddenly worried about what to wear. “I can clean my nice Vans”

“No, just wear whatever.” EJ told him. “And ‘nice Vans’ is an oxymoron.”

“ _You’re_ an oxymoron.” Ricky muttered.

EJ snorted.

\---

EJ had offered to pick Ricky up for the dinner with Wilson, but since the dinner was _at_ EJ’s house, it felt weird to Ricky to have EJ chauffer him around just for that, so Ricky skateboarded over. It wasn’t far from Ricky’s house, and skating always helped clear his mind and calm his nerves, which he really needed.

He got to the house and debated for a moment if he should go to the front door. Ricky decided against it, figuring he’d never actually used the front door and why would he start now? So, he went around the house, dumping his skate stuff on the back porch before knocking on the glass door that led into the family room.

EJ appeared almost instantly, opening the door and letting Ricky inside.

“Hey!” EJ smiled at him before leaning in to give Ricky a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Ricky returned, glancing around. He always felt weird being in the Caswell house. Everything was so neat and fancy-feeling that Ricky felt like he was in a museum and was always about to break something. “Where’s Ellie?” Normally, Ellie was at the door within seconds of Ricky walking through it.

“She’s got a sleepover tonight,” EJ explained closing the door. The family room was connected to the kitchen, so Ricky had braced himself for seeing (and meeting) Wilson the moment he walked through the door. But the kitchen was empty.

“A sleepover?” Ricky asked, looking away from the kitchen to look at EJ. “But she’s my favorite Caswell! How could she do that to me?”

“Because I didn’t tell her you were coming.” EJ shrugged with a joking smile. “I play to win, remember?” He leaned in, giving Ricky another kiss. This one, though, was longer and had the effect of making Ricky completely forget where he was or what they were talking about. All he could focus on was EJ’s lips against his and EJ’s hand on his neck and the other on his waist and—

CLANG!

They jumped apart and turned to see who Ricky could only assume was Wilson, standing in the kitchen, with two large pans in front of him.

“Don’t mind me,” he grunted. “As you were.”

He looked like Mr. Clean in a white chef’s coat, if Mr. Clean had an “I might kill you” aura about him. He was tall, totally bald, and completely intimidating. His intimidation factor was helped by the fact that he was _built..._ and also holding a knife.

He could’ve been the child of Mr. Clean and Vin Diesel.

Ricky was terrified.

Ricky was sure he was bright red as EJ, who somehow seemed not fazed at all at the interruption, grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, towards Wilson.

“Wilson! This is Ricky!” EJ beamed as he introduced them.

Ricky felt the urge to throw up or run away. Or both.

Instead, he swallowed and stuck out his hand. “Hi Wilson. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wilson glanced down at Ricky’s hand for a moment before reaching out and taking it in his, giving it a quick shake, then releasing it and going back to arranging the stuff in front of him.

He was standing at the island of the kitchen and they were on the other. Their side had several stools on which to sit, clearly for just such an occasion, because EJ plopped down on one and gestured for Ricky to do the same.

He knew EJ was nervous about this dinner too and he really didn’t want to be the reason _another_ family dinner went poorly so he wracked his brain for something to say.

“So is Wilson your first name or your last name?” Ricky asked, settling on a stool to watch as Wilson cooked.

“It’s my name.” He grunted in a deep, gravelly voice. Ricky looked at EJ, wide-eyed and EJ smiled encouragingly.

“Great name.” Ricky said, groaning internally. “How long have you been a personal chef?”

“Thirteen years.” Wilson said looking at what he was chopping. “Since he was five.” He pointed at EJ with his knife. 

There was an awkward pause.

“And what’d you do before that?” Ricky felt like he was pulling teeth. This was the most physically painful conversation he had ever been a part of, and he had been a part of _many_ painful conversations. Ricky couldn’t help but feel like he would have better luck talking to the refrigerator.

“Worked in a restaurant.” Ricky decided to just give up. He wanted this to go well, he really did, but Wilson was giving him _nothing_.

“He actually owned a restaurant in New York.” EJ added excitedly. “It was Michelin rated and everything!”

“Really?” Ricky had never been to a restaurant that had more than three-dollar signs on Yelp, so he didn’t have the best grasp on what it meant to be “Michelin rated” but he was sure this would probably be the best meal he had ever eaten. “What is that even like?” Ricky wondered aloud. What is it like to be _that_ good at something?

“Stressful as hell,” Wilson stopped what he was doing and gave Ricky a hard look. “I had everything I wanted and couldn’t be happy. Then my sous chef staged a coup, I got forced out of my restaurant, my marriage tanked, and I had a nervous breakdown.”

“Are you okay?” Ricky asked, dumbly. He suddenly found himself wishing they could go back to the Wilson who didn’t speak. This was an overwhelming amount of information to get and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Never better,” Wilson went back to cooking. “Learned about what matters most, and to be careful who my friends are.”

“Like me,” EJ joked, grinning at Wilson. Ricky swore he saw Wilson’s mouth twitch, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Sure, champ. Like you.” Wilson paused for a moment then cleared his throat. “Now, EJ, go set the table. Where are your manners?”

EJ nodded and got up, walking out of the kitchen. Not wanting to be alone with Wilson, Ricky got up and scurried after him. They walked into a dining room that was somehow even more over the top than the kitchen was. The chairs alone made Ricky wish he’d put on dress pants, rather than jeans.

“So?” EJ prompted, pulling out placemats and napkins. He pointed to Ricky where some silverware and plates had already been pulled out.

“He scares me.” Ricky said quietly, referring to Wilson. He picked up the plates and walked around behind EJ, putting a plate on each of placemats EJ set down.

“He scares everyone.” EJ agreed. “But he’s a big marshmallow once you get to know him, I promise.” 

“I don’t think you and I eat the same marshmallows.” Ricky stated, fiddling with the silverware as he put it on the napkins.

EJ snorted. “I’m serious, though. I know he can be a little rough around the edges but he’s a good guy.”

“Okay,” Ricky said. He hadn’t seen that side of Wilson in the few minutes they’d spent together, but that didn’t mean Ricky didn’t believe EJ.

“He’s like Shrek!” EJ joked, wrapping an arm around Ricky’s shoulders. “He’s got layers – like an onion.”

“I can’t believe you just quoted Shrek at me.” Ricky laughed, wrapping his arms around EJ’s middle and putting his head on EJ’s shoulder.

“That film is a cinematic masterpiece and, no, I won’t be taking questions!” EJ squeezed Ricky.

Ricky sighed, knowing it was best to just leave EJ with his weirdly strong opinions.

“Dinner’s ready.” Wilson called from the kitchen. They broke apart went to stand at their places at the table across from each other.

“Oh good! I’m starving!” Ricky rubbed his hands together in excitement. “I didn’t actually eat lunch today.”

“What? Why?” EJ looked at him, mildly alarmed, which Ricky supposed was fair. He wasn’t one to skip meals.

“I tried!” Ricky told him. “I tried to reheat some pizza, but I ended up burning it and may or may not have set the microwave on fire, and then we were out of bread, so I couldn’t make a sandwich and…” Ricky shrugged. EJ rolled his eyes affectionately at him.

“Remind me to not leave you in the kitchen unsupervised.” Wilson grunted, bring three plates to the table. He placed a plate in front of each of them, taking a seat himself at the head of the table.

Each plate had an artfully swirled serving of pasta on it, with little bits of bacon and was, quite honestly, the best-looking pasta Ricky had ever seen.

He glanced at EJ, who was already digging in, excitedly.

“What? You’re not going to take a pic of your dinner for Instagram?” Ricky asked cheekily.

Wilson snorted, taking a bite of his own pasta and EJ looked affronted.

“No, because I’m with people and that would be rude.” EJ said, his cheeks burning slightly.

“Never stopped you before,” Ricky teased, who had grown used to EJ wanting to memorialize his meals with a photo. Early in their relationship, they had to come to an agreement on how many photos of them being a couple EJ could post on his Instagram (the compromise of being _too many_ (Ricky’s opinion) and _not enough_ (EJ’s opinion) meant EJ found loopholes of posting _about_ his boyfriend without having to have a picture with Ricky in it.

“I like him.” Wilson cracked a smile and Ricky smiled in return, feeling victorious. Wilson turned to Ricky. “I’ve banned him from using phone at the table. Otherwise, he’d never look up.”

“Oh, that’s smart!” Ricky nodded. “I may have to try that.” Ricky smiled at EJ, to show he was kidding. EJ was actually really good about limiting his social media time when they were together – even if he did constantly take pictures.

“Are you ganging up on me?” EJ frowned. “Am I going to regret introducing you?”

“Absolutely,” Wilson said somberly, and Ricky laughed. EJ huffed and went back to his plate.

“Wilson, what’s your favorite thing to cook?” Ricky asked, feeling bold.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Wilson looked around the room, thinking. “I like experimenting and finding new ways to do things, but my favorite thing to experiment with is probably meat. Sous vide-ing it, smoking, grilling. There’s a lot of choices depending on what you want the final product to be.”

Rick had been expecting another short answer like “pancakes” or “skaters who ask too many questions” but certainly not something as in-depth as what Wilson gave him.

“My dad has a grill.” Ricky said, just to fill the silence while he searched for something else to say. “I don’t know some of the other words you said, though.”

Wilson nodded and slowly started explaining the different cooking techniques he had just listed, why some are better than others in certain cases. Ricky, who could (sometimes) use a microwave and (occasionally) make boxed macaroni and cheese on the stove, was blown away.

“And here I thought it was impressive when my dad makes hot wings,” Rick admitted.

Wilson nodded. “Everyone’s on a different level. I’m only as good as I am because I dedicated my life to it. I’m sure your dad splits his time between other things.”

Ricky didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just focused on eating the last few bites of his pasta, savoring every moment.

“That was so good!” Ricky groaned as he finished the last of his meal. “Seriously, I get why EJ said this was his favorite thing you make.”

“Yeah?” Wilson looked pleased. “Would you like more?”

Ricky hesitated – he really did want more but he wasn’t sure what the polite thing to do in this situation was. After a moment, and a quick glance at EJ, who was looking at him expectantly, he nodded. “If there’s more, I’d love it!”

Wilson gave him a smile, a real, genuine teeth-showing smile. “Coming right up!” He got up and strode towards the kitchen.

Ricky looked at EJ who grinned at him, giving him a thumbs-up.

“He loves it when people ask for seconds.” EJ said softly so Wilson wouldn’t overhear in the kitchen.

“Good thing I didn’t eat lunch then.” Ricky muttered.

“Good thing you can eat twice your body weight in a meal,” EJ corrected with a smile.

Before Ricky could come up with a snarky reply, Wilson came back into the dining room, a fresh plate piled high with spaghetti carbonara in hand. He set it in front of Ricky and reclaimed his seat, watching as Ricky started on his second helping. 

“You might be the first person EJ’s ever brought to the house who’s wanted seconds,” Wilson told him. “All the girls he’s brought have just wanted salad and only eaten half of it.” Wilson rolled his eyes.

Ricky swallowed his bite and said jokingly: “Does that mean it’s too late to ask for a salad?”

Wilson barked out a laugh. “Kid, I’ll make you anything you want, even if it is rabbit food.”

The rest of the evening went really well. They had a dessert of ice cream and fresh chocolate chip cookies because “you can’t beat the classics,” Wilson had explained.

Wilson shared a couple of embarrassing stories of EJ as a kid, much to Ricky’s delight. Like the time EJ tried to bring Wilson to show-and-tell in first grade.

(“ _We were supposed to bring the coolest thing in our house, and I stand by it! Wilson’s the coolest!” EJ defended, his ears pink.)_

But all too soon, it was getting late, and Ricky was getting texts from his dad asking when he would be home.

It was dark out so EJ insisted on giving Ricky a ride home. He dashed upstairs to grab his keys and wallet while Ricky made his way out to the back porch to gather his skate stuff. 

“Hey, kid.” Wilson’s voice stopped Ricky at the backdoor. He turned around to see Wilson giving him a very serious look.

_Oh no,_ Ricky thought. _This is the part where he threatens to kill me if I hurt EJ._

Trying to keep his voice level, Ricky replied: “Yeah?”

“You ever burn another meal, or need something to eat, you come here, okay?” Wilson said, his eyes intense. “I mean it – even if EJ’s not here, you want food, you come here.”

Ricky didn’t know what to say. That had to be the nicest thing a virtual stranger had ever said to him. He wasn’t used to people caring about what he ate, or how he ate. At least, not since his mom left. It was… nice… that someone cared. He felt important.

Fighting back tears, Ricky choked out a “thanks,” before Wilson gave him a gruff nod and turned back to the kitchen and Ricky escaped outside.

EJ met Ricky at his car a few minutes later.

He took one look at Ricky before going: “You’re crying? Why are you crying?”

Ricky shook his head. “It was nothing.”

But EJ was already wrapping him in a hug. “What happened?”

“Wilson was nice to me.” Ricky admitted, feeling silly. “Told me to come by if I ever need food or burn anything.”

EJ pulled back. “He did?”

“Yeah?” Ricky was suddenly nervous. “Was that not okay? He just offered. I can, like, not come by—”

“No, no, sorry,” EJ shook his head, smiling softly. “That’s great. I was just surprised. I mean, I knew he liked you, but him offering that… you might officially be one of his favorite people now, Ricky.”

“Really?” Ricky was shocked. He thinks the last time he went so fast from being a stranger to on the top of someone’s favorite person list was back in kindergarten with Big Red and Nini.

“Yeah… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re the favorite person of every Caswell and honorary Caswell you meet.” EJ grinned at him. “Since you’re _my_ favorite and… I do have amazing taste.”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “Sure, if you want me and Wilson being best friends to be a compliment to _you_ , we can do that.”

They were quiet for a moment. Ricky knew he needed to go ahead and get into the car since he had told his dad he would be leaving soon. But also… it was Saturday night and well before his curfew so sue him if he wanted to hang out with EJ a bit longer.

“I know we’ve established Wilson likes you,” EJ started quietly, looking intently at Ricky. “But did it go okay for you? I know you were nervous about it.” 

“I told you,” Ricky smiled. “Wilson and I are best friends now. I’m going to be here more often than you are. Maybe Wilson can teach me some new skills?”

“Yeah, like not setting the microwave on fire.” EJ said dryly.

“Gotta start somewhere!” Ricky grinned. “We’ll hang out every day. Wilson’s got his work cut out for him.” 

“So, you’ll be spending more time at the Caswell house to hang out with Wilson?” EJ asked him. His tone was…off… and Ricky wasn’t sure why.

“And Ellie!” Ricky reminded him.

“Right.” EJ said glancing down.

And then it clicked for Ricky: for as self-assured and confident as EJ acted, it was just that: an act. He was as deeply insecure as Ricky was, albeit about different things. So, Ricky decided to put the jokes aside and be real for once.

“EJ, I think the fact that I didn’t run screaming when your very intimidating personal chef and pseudo-uncle walked in on us making out shows you’re never ever getting rid of me.” Rick assured him. The glint in EJ’s eyes told him EJ had picked up on the reference to the song EJ has sung him the night they first got together. “I’m glad Ellie and Wilson like me because they’re the most important people in your life, so they’re important to me too.” Ricky took a deep breath. “Because _you’re_ important to me.”

“You’re important to me too,” EJ whispered, leaning in. Their lips met for a slow, sure kiss. They hadn’t gotten to _I love you’s_ yet – it was way too early for that. But this was a good step forward.

Finally, way too soon for Ricky’s liking, they broke apart, foreheads touching and short of breath.

“Did we just have an emotionally mature, feelings conversation?” EJ asked, smiling a bit.

  
“Yes, but we can’t ever tell anyone.” Ricky told him, mock-stern. “We’ve got reputations to protect.”

“Never,” EJ promised, leaning in for another kiss.

Ricky didn’t make it home for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [itsjuliemolina](https://itsjuliemolina.tumblr.com/)


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